


Surrender

by natsukis (NatRoze)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Breathplay, DONT WORRY EVERYTHING GOES OK IN THE END BUT STILL IT BEARS MENTIONING, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Mid-Sex Kink Negotiation, Overstimulation, Post-Canon, Rough Sex, protip: please pick your safeword out BEFORE having wild and potentially dangerous sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 06:35:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8435296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NatRoze/pseuds/natsukis
Summary: Talking is hard. Fucking is easy.Or: Shirabu and Tendou are both emotionally constipated disasters who are awkward and terrible at properly communicating beyond their respective salt and shenanigans.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i cant believe i passed out at 7:45, woke up at ass oclock in the middle of the night, spat out 2.8k of tenshira smut on my phone in the dark, and then rolled over and went back the fuck to sleep
> 
> thanks to amber for betaing and again to amber for knowingly enabling and also becky for inadvertently enabling via [this tweet](https://twitter.com/dickaeopolis/status/792445907749003265)
> 
> NOTE: there's nsfw art towards the end of the fic, just in case you decide to open this in public or something.

It isn't _hate_ . Tendou doesn't rile Shirabu up because they dislike each other. He isn't sure that what they feel about each other could be described by anyone else as _affection,_ per se, but it isn't a bad feeling. And it's definitely something they both need.

Shirabu pins Tendou down on his bed, one hand holding his wrists above his head, the other braced at the base of his neck.  It wouldn't even be hard for Tendou to flip their positions and they both know it, but this is exactly where he wants to be. This is a side of Shirabu that only gets to come out because Tendou lets him bring it out.

Sometimes, Shirabu just needs to take complete control. Sometimes Tendou wants nothing more than to submit.

Shirabu catches Tendou's eye and breaks for just a second to give him a meaningful look – _are you ok to keep going?_ – and Tendou smirks.

“I didn’t ask you over so you could stare longingly into my eyes, Kenjirou-kun,” Tendou teases.

Shirabu narrows his eyes and leans in to capture Tendou’s lips, right as he increases the pressure on Tendou's neck. His fingers dig into Tendou’s skin, cutting off just enough of his breath to make things interesting.

It's not soft, what they do to each other. Tendou bites, hard enough to bruise Shirabu's lips, and Shirabu gives back as rough as he gets, shoving his tongue into Tendou's mouth and grinding down hard against him. Tendou whines and writhes breathlessly beneath him, which only serves to encourage Shirabu. They bite at and buck against each other, and 3-2-1 Shirabu lets up on the pressure around Tendou's throat and he gasps, barely having time to readjust before Shirabu's ducking down to nip at the sensitive skin of his neck.

“You bruise really easily,” he murmurs along Tendou's jawline, no doubt having just left a mark that Tendou’s college classmates are going to pester him about later. Shirabu’s lips are soft against his neck, a stark contrast to his long fingers nearly choking him just moments ago, and a shudder runs down his spine.

Tendou, true to form, ruins the gentleness of the moment by grinding his hips up harshly, dragging a moan out of Shirabu.

“Are we gonna fuck already?” he asks, twisting one hand out of Shirabu's grasp to stroke his fingers through Shirabu’s hair on the way to wrapping his arm around his shoulders and digging his nails into Shirabu’s back. There's no rules at all, here; that's the best part about their little interludes together. There are no expectations. They can throw it all out the window and just lose themselves in it together.

Shirabu responds to Tendou's question by pulling back just long enough to strip them both out of their clothes, and leans back in to suck a mark into the crook of Tendou's neck as he reaches up and taps his fingers lightly against Tendou's lips. Tendou parts them and laps eagerly at Shirabu's fingers for the brief few seconds before Shirabu presses them in far enough for Tendou to gag on them. Tendou moans brokenly around his fingers.

“You enjoy that,” Shirabu teases. _You know it_ , thinks Tendou. Shirabu grinds their hardened cocks together, panting roughly. His breath feathers hotly across Tendou's skin, and Tendou moans in return. He coughs uncomfortably around Shirabu's fingers, eyes watering just a little by the time Shirabu finally retracts his hand. He kisses at the soft skin behind Tendou’s ear before he reaches down to start prepping him.

Shirabu doesn't waste time teasing here. He fishes the lube out of Tendou's nightstand, slicking his fingers up even more. He nips at Tendou's collarbone once, twice, tongue lapping at the abused skin, and then he's pressing two fingers in at once and Tendou's gasping, wriggling his hips slightly as he adjusts to the feeling.

Shirabu kisses him softly right at the base of his throat, and slowly spreads his fingers apart. Tendou yelps.

“You’re a little shit,” he points out. He can feel Shirabu smirk just slightly against his skin.

Shirabu  grinds down teasingly against Tendou as he opens him up, the soft fleeting kisses against Tendou’s  chest and neck a stark counterpoint to the rough thrusts of Shirabu’s long fingers fucking in and out of him..

Once he's satisfied, Shirabu removes his fingers and wipes them off on Tendou’s sheets (“Guess who gets to do my laundry now, Kenjirou-ku~n!”) before rolling on a condom and slicking himself with lube. Tendou watches Shirabu stroke himself, resisting the urge to wolf-whistle – Shirabu really is gorgeous to watch, the way his deft fingers slide up and down his cock. As soon as Shirabu realizes he's inadvertently putting on a show, though, he freezes and scowls at Tendou, flushing in embarrassment.

“Don’t _watch_ ,” he mutters.

“I can’t help it,” Tendou sings, “You’re too cute.”

“And you’re a reptile.”

“You’re the one fucking a reptile,” Tendou points out, and Shirabu groans in irritation.

“Flip over,” he demands. Tendou doesn't even hesitate. Shirabu positions himself behind him, tentatively rests one hand on the back of Tendou's neck. He hums thoughtfully, and presses Tendou's face into the mattress.

“Gonna get on with it, Kenjirou-kun, or are ya gonna make me beg for it?”

Shirabu hums again in consideration. “As much as I’d love that, I know you’d give it up easy enough, and I’m already feeling too impatient.”  Without any warning, he snaps his hips forward and sinks all the way into Tendou, dragging a groan out of both of them.

Shirabu starts up a harsh and relentless pace, his chest pressed to Tendou's back as he holds him down, one hand braced on the back of Tendou’s neck as he fucks him, the other immediately reaching around to stroke Tendou’s dick. For a moment Tendou wonders if Shirabu might just be eager to finish, because if he keeps this up, Tendou's going to be coming far sooner than he'd like to. Shirabu strokes him just so, his grip tightening and Tendou lets out a whimper as he tenses, his legs shaking the closer he gets to his climax.

Just when he's about to be pushed over the edge, Shirabu removes his hand from Tendou’s dick, and slows his pace to nearly a stop. Tendou wants to scream.

“You're a little evil,” he chokes out as Shirabu lazily circles his hips, granting _just_ slightly not enough friction for Tendou to be satisfied. Shirabu hums against his shoulder blade, nuzzles gently before biting down hard enough to nearly break the skin, and then immediately starts pounding into him again.

Tendou yelps, his fingers clutching at the sheets – Shirabu yanks his hands backward, pins them behind his back. He picks up the pace a notch, driving into Tendou with more force than he thought Shirabu capable of.

Tendou feels like he’s on fire. It's – this is all a little too intense: not being allowed to come, his arms twisted behind his back – he can’t even touch himself, and the pace Shirabu's setting is overwhelming, grinding against his prostate repeatedly. The angle Shirabu’s got him pinned at makes it difficult for him to breathe right, and while that’s always exciting for a few moments, the longer he tries to hold out, the closer he’s getting to actually passing out. He's startled to find himself wishing Shirabu would relent, just the slightest.

“Kenjirou-kun, hang on a sec, slow down,” he gasps, but his voice is rough in his throat and he can barely hear himself. His heart races, his fingers claw uselessly at the air behind his back. He feels a little bit dizzy, and his breath hitches uncomfortably. His voice breaks wetly over his next cry of Shirabu’s name.

Immediately, Shirabu stops, lets go of Tendou's wrists, and pulls out. Tendou's shocked at himself for how relieved he is. He gasps sharply as Shirabu releases the back of his neck and he can breathe properly again. For a long, surreal moment, neither of them say anything, and neither of them move.

Once he’s come back down to earth and remembered how to breathe steady, Tendou teases, “Kenjirou-kun, don't give up now, we’re almost at the finish line.” In the face of real concern, he has to keep up an air of being just as in control as Shirabu, but his voice sounds totally wrecked. Shirabu rolls him onto his back and rearranges himself between Tendou's legs, braced over him and frowning.

“Shut up,” says Shirabu. He leans up to press an excruciatingly gentle kiss below Tendou's eye, and it's at that point that he becomes aware that somewhere down the line he’d started crying, and not the _good_ kind of crying during sex. “You've never said – I thought I actually hurt you, jackass.”

Tendou shudders underneath him and looks away. “You _didn't_. It was just kinda too much –”

“I could have.” Shirabu’s expression remains mostly neutral, but his eyes are wide, betraying his concern. “I don't want to hurt you in a way you don't actually want to be hurt.”

Tendou gapes at him. The admission is surprising in its honesty and directness. Shirabu's turned a funny shade of crimson in its aftermath. Tendou's face feels hot enough that he's sure they match.

The first time they'd found themselves in bed together, it was on the shared premise that talking was hard but fucking was easy, so if they have to deal with each other's emotions, then using the language of the former was easier. His heart feels much lighter for knowing for sure that Shirabu cares, so he doesn't ruin the moment. He’s relaxed by now, and wants to respond _somehow,_ let Shirabu know he’s grateful for the care and concern, and that he feels the same.

Words aren't gonna work, though – he just knows he's gonna crack some off-color joke or, _ooh_ , a One Piece reference, no matter how well-timed, would really grind Shirabu's gears – so instead he just pulls Shirabu down into a slow, burning, deep kiss that has them both gasping into each other's mouths. Tendou sucks and nips at Shirabu's lower lip before he lets him pull away, and smirks at him as he sits back up.

“Do you... wanna keep going?” Shirabu asks, a little bit falling apart. His bangs are a mess and his face is still red and his eyes are wide, and Tendou knows he probably looks just as wrecked and he loves it. Even if they push limits, this is even ground between them. This is where they understand each other. This is where they both come to lose their inhibitions, and destroy each other’s.

Tendou only hesitates for a second before he nods. Shirabu shivers visibly, and he braces himself over Tendou as he lines back up and slides in, achingly slow. Tendou whimpers when he's fully seated and wraps an arm around the back of Shirabu's neck to pull him down against his chest.

“Don't be _too_ gentle, Kenjirou-kun,” he murmurs. “I just needed a moment, not the whole night.”

“What if I _was_ , just to piss you off.”

Tendou blinks in surprise, and his lips curve slowly into a smirk against Shirabu’s cheek.

 _Gentle_ isn't something they do.

Before Tendou has a chance to tease about it, Shirabu’s pushing himself back up and lacing his fingers sweetly together with Tendou's as he rocks into him. He pulls back slow, rolls his hips every time he thrusts forward, grinding hard against Tendou's sweet spot. He fucks Tendou gentle but steady, snapping his hips at the end of each thrust and drawing short, hiccupy little noises from Tendou. All the while, Tendou can feel the pads of Shirabu's thumbs stroking over his wrists, and Shirabu's mouth along his neck and chest, biting hard and then soothing over the marks with hot open-mouthed kisses, and insistent heat under his skin.

This is just as overwhelming, in a completely different way, and Tendou finds himself pleasantly surprised by how much he likes it. He's light-headed and whimpering, grinding down to meet Shirabu each time he thrusts. He can tell he's close to coming again and he's starting to chase the high of it when Shirabu releases his hands and pulls back, kissing him briefly before reaching and hooking Tendou's legs over his shoulders. The new angle forces him even deeper, and Tendou lets out an embarrassing broken noise at how full he feels. Shirabu kisses him once more, even lighter, before he starts moving again.

Tendou gasps a little on every stroke, heat beginning to build up inside him, and he's not the only one affected; Shirabu's eyes are screwed shut, and he’s biting his lip to keep from making any noise. With his hands unrestrained, Tendou's free to surprise Shirabu by raking his nails up his back and bringing his hands to tangle in his hair at the top. Shirabu's breath hitches and he moans loud when Tendou pulls his hair. His hips stutter and he picks up the pace.

“Tendou-san,” Shirabu gasps. “Oh god. Can you – c’you come without me touching?”

Tendou's beyond words by now – he might be drooling a little even, but he's the last person to be embarrassed by that. He simply moans high and loud in response, and Shirabu takes that as initiative to try and make him, to fuck him harder, deeper, more relentless and determined with every slap of his hips against Tendou's thighs.

One of his hands tentatively finds its way back to the base of Tendou's neck. He doesn't even press down this time, but the thought that he _could_ drives Tendou a little wild.

Shirabu pushes in deep, fits his teeth along Tendou’s jawline, and it's finally too much, and Tendou's coming all over them both with a breathy moan.

Shirabu fucks him almost into oversensitivity before he comes too, burying his face in Tendou's neck to stifle his cry of Tendou's name. In the aftermath he leans up, rests his forehead against Tendou’s. His eyelashes flutter as he catches his breath, and Tendou leans up to lazily press their lips together.

Shirabu pulls out with a gentle nuzzle to Tendou's knee before lifting off the bed.  He vanishes into the bathroom for a moment and returns sans condom and with a warm washcloth that he uses to wipe them both clean before tossing it into the abyss on Tendou's floor.

When Shirabu crawls back into bed, Tendou immediately curls into his arms like an overly-affectionate octopus. He tucks his head under Shirabu's chin despite how weird a position it is with him being taller, and lets Shirabu wrap his legs around his waist and his arms tight around Tendou's shoulders.

 _This is gentle_ , he supposes. The realization feels like a complete shift of paradigms.

Tendou wants to thank Shirabu, every now and then, but he thinks that would probably be weird. He wants to murmur into Shirabu's skin how lucky he is that they can understand each other like this, that they can come together and drag the most aggressive, needy things out of each other and vent it somewhere, that they can be this bizarre safe harbor for each other.

But he has no idea how to say that without sort of wanting to laugh at himself, so instead he just grins and presses a loud, wet kiss to Shirabu's collarbone.

“Gross,” says Shirabu. Tendou can tell he doesn’t mean it, even though it _is_ a little sappy.

“No, you,” Tendou teases back.

“Look who's talking, weirdo.”

“You're just as weird as me,” Tendou accuses. “You're just a different species of weird.”

“ _You're_ just a different species to begin with.”

Tendou laughs, and Shirabu kisses the top of his head (“Your sex hair, by the way, is even more ridiculous than your normal hair,” Shirabu announces), and Tendou snuggles in closer.

“By the way, Tendou-san,” Shirabu murmurs, combing his fingers through Tendou’s hair despite how gross the residual hair product in it must be. Tendou sighs contentedly against his chest. “Before next time, we should, um.”

“Should, um,” Tendou repeats.

“We should pick a safeword,” says Shirabu, blushing. “Just in case.”

Tendou hums in response. He opens his mouth, and Shirabu immediately adds “But if you suggest some kind of bullshit anime reference I will not hesitate to kick you out of your own bed.”

“Damn.” And then, before Tendou can let himself think better of it, he says, “Stay the night?”

Shirabu sputters at him, and his awkwardness makes Tendou feel more awkward. Tendou’s glad he’s got his face pressed into Shirabu’s chest because he feels like he’s moved past blushing and is probably turning purple, or plaid or something else equally ridiculous. “You're comfy, which is hilarious because you have the personality of a cactus, and I’m sleepy and I’m not letting go unless you make me.”

Shirabu stammers his way around a response for a full minute before squeaking out a “Whatever, Tendou-san,” and reaching down to pull the sheets up over them both. Finally, he relaxes into Tendou's arms. Tendou thinks he hears him murmur a quiet “G’night,” before they both fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry, mom


End file.
